maybe I’m just getting old, but I look at what kids today use for entertainment and I am saddened. dystopic futures abound. In literature, games, and even attitude. The hope of a brighter future seems dampened by fear, economic limitations, and a parental influence, jaded by a future that never arrived.
We dreamt of flying cars, feeding the world, more free time. We got the free time in rampant unemployment. Are our lives easier? Not really, the stress on the body has been replaced by the stress on the mind. We have epidemic depression and we are passing that gloomy cloud on to our children.
Those children that make it to the age of ten without having their hopes crushed, are bludgeoned by our reality till a handful, their ambitions clutched tatters of what was once a shining dream stagger into our centres of higher education and for a short while are sheltered, then shackled with debt and tossed out into the ocean of humanity to sink or swim in desperation for shallow water.
Those who manage to succeed are usually those that have adapted to our waters, becoming the very sharks that feed of the rest of us in that ocean. And the cycle continues.
I try to bring joy and wonder to my grandchildren. A sense of hope for the future no matter how distant it may seem to them. But it is a harder task then I like to admit, and I fear that some of the brittle edges that have been ground off of me will fall into their eyes. Blinding them to the hope of a glorious future. A future that they so richly deserve, and we so poorly provide.